"Tony and Bruce cooking dinner" requested by featheredschist

note: I forgot the prompt said dinner so I made it breakfast instead, though I guess you could eat pancakes for dinner.

"I think I'm going to regret this."

Tony gave him a blinding smile. "Isn't that what you said when you agreed to date me?"

"And look where we are now." Bruce grumbled.

"Oh come on. If you can't teach me how to cook, I figure no one can."

"Well," Bruce said, getting out the pans, "Can't we just say no one can and leave it at that?"

"No!" Tony exclaimed. "Don't you know that cooking is one of the few things I've never excelled at after studying it? I can learn rocket science in like a week but this, mixing and cooking things…something that cavemen did for godssake, this is going to beat me?"

Bruce sighed. "Ok then. But if you end up making pancakes with Hulk you'll only have yourself to blame."

Tony smiled. "Hulk can cook? I didn't know that."

"He can actually."

Tony stopped smiling. "Really?"

"Yeah. Deer, pig, chicken, he's really good at cooking meat. He can just sense when it's done enough."

Tony looked at him in awe. "That's because he can smell the blood, isn't it?"

It was one of the downsides to Hulk's existence, Bruce figured out. He could smell blood from miles. And though it did help him know where the trouble is, the big guy had found his share of bloodied corpses.

"That's what we think."

"Huh, so Hulk can do something I can't."

"He can also use cars as boxing gloves. So don't let that get you down."

Tony started putting the pancake mix together.

"No, Tony. You use milk for that. And not that much, you'll end up with mush."

"It's not that," Tony said, picking up their conversation. "I just…it's interesting. Hulk, who used to think thunder was gunshot, knows how to cook. Do you think that means something?"

"Like what?" Bruce asked, grabbing Tony's wrist and moving his arm in slower, steadier motions.

"I don't know, maybe cooking is an instinct."

"Like avoiding thunder?" Bruce responded, turning the burner on the stove down, so Tony wouldn't burn breakfast.

"Like that. Maybe people just have knack for cooking that I don't."

Bruce shook his head at that. "No. I think it's nurture more than nature. You weren't raised around cooking. Or taught that it was a skill you needed in life, therefore it's harder for you."

Tony looked at him. "And you were raised around cooking?"

"Not really. I mean I'd watch my mom sometimes. And on my own it was mostly anything cheap and easy. But once I went on the run, it became a necessity."

"So you're saying I just need to go out into the wild and I'll know how to cook?" Tony asked, leaning over to sprinkle some chocolate chips into the mixture.

Bruce grabbed his wrist to make him stop. "Well, either that or starve to death."

Tony let the chips fall back into the bag.

"Hmm….So then you definitely need to teach me. If I'm ever starving in the woods I'll need to know this shit."

Bruce couldn't help himself. He grabbed Tony by the waist and pulled him close.

"No you won't."

"Really and why is that?" Tony asked, turning to look at Bruce.

"Because I wouldn't let you run away alone. And I can cook."

Tony mulled that over for a bit. "And so can Hulk, apparently."

Bruce kissed him on the shoulder. "And so can Hulk."

"That's sweet and all, truly, but I can't let fucking pancakes beat me."

Bruce just sighed and gave up.

And when the pancakes turned out to be a burnt mess, he held his nose and ate them anyway.